The debate surrounding the "Breast Milk Baby", a doll that allows children to pretend to breastfeed, highlights how confused we are about breastfeeding. So confused in fact, that a child imitating the biological norm is seen by some as "gross".
Culturally we might be breastfeeding sceptics but at a policy level everyone is clear that improving the UK's low breastfeeding rates is a major priority; particularly as 90% of mothers say they stopped before they were ready. A Unicef report last month highlighted a £40m saving for the NHS if moderate increases in breastfeeding rates took place, savings based on the fact that formula feeding statistically increases infant illness and cases of sudden infant death syndrome and negatively affects maternal health.
The commentary to this compelling evidence is two opposing breastfeeding narratives. Most popular is a story of extreme and unfair pressure on new mothers to breastfeed, leading to guilt and depression. Whispered in lower tones are tales of understaffed postnatal wards where formula is a swift solution.
As a doula who navigates the system, and the cultural pot it stews in, on a regular basis, I find the reality more complex. Pregnant women are informed about the benefits of breastfeeding; often repeatedly and often inexpertly. However, the knowledge and support required to make their breastfeeding aspirations a reality is rarely in place and, as they are often the first in their family for a couple of generations to try to breastfeed, they have nowhere to turn for help.
Set this against a cultural backdrop where breasts are seen almost exclusively as sexual objects, it is no wonder that the Breast Milk Baby has been accused of "forcing children to grow up too quickly". Many of us find it difficult to separate breasts as food from breasts as part of sex, and thus find the idea of a child pretending to have breasts, even for the benign purpose of feeding their doll, too close to sexualisation for comfort.
Because of this I can't help but think that normalising breastfeeding in the eyes of young male and female children is essential. As Maddie McMahon, a breastfeeding counsellor from the Association of Breastfeeding Mothers says, "to get back to a status quo in which nursing is once again considered the normal way to feed a baby, children need to grow up seeing it, role-playing it and not picking up the taboos of the previous generation. Children learn to walk and talk by watching and copying. The more we expose growing humans to their biological norm, the less problems will result when it's their turn to nurture the next generation."
If the world children see is one where babies (real or toy) are fed with bottles and women (whether in doll or real-life form) have breasts celebrated only for their sexual function, the barriers to breastfeeding will become even more insurmountable. If we increase familiarity with breastfeeding through play, it may well make a difference. As Kitty Hagenbach, a psychotherapist specialising in early childhood, asserts, "although children may not need a specific doll, I believe the likelihood of their breastfeeding their children when the time comes will be increased by this type of play".
The Breast Milk Baby may have a high price tag and an overdone concept, but in a world where people often hide behind Page 3 to avoid seeing public breastfeeding, anything that seeks to redresses the balance at an early age is to be welcomed, not scorned.